


Too Hot To Stop

by SmackTheDevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Brother/Brother Incest, Daddy Kink, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Rimming, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5101424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmackTheDevil/pseuds/SmackTheDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another 'how it all began' perspective of the world that is Wincest!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Hot To Stop

Sam Winchester had been away for a couple of days visiting old friends from Stanford. His brother Dean had stayed behind in the latest motel they had stopped at, he was enjoying being grounded for a few days. His reasons for this ranged from 'no hunting hangovers' to 'doing what the hell I want'. Sam couldn't argue with that because it described Dean in a nutshell.  
His initial plan was for a two-night stay after which he would return back to the motel to meet Dean. His plans however changed and his trip had been cut short a day. He was certain Dean wouldn't mind his returning early.

On the morning before Sam came back, Dean was nursing a hangover from hell. There was a strange woman in his bed and one of his shoes was missing. He was pretty sure he didn't have sex with this woman and made sure she was quickly evicted from the premises. He found his shoe on the porch outside as she was leaving.

Dean stood in the shower, his head down with a hand pressed against the avocado green tiles. He felt like shit. His head was banging and he was just about ready to barf over his feet. The night before was gradually becoming clearer and he soon realized his reason for feeling so sick was because of the creamy liquor shots the strange woman had been feeding him. He remembered how many he had and threw up in the shower.

By lunchtime, he was feeling a lot clearer. The fuzziness of the night before had faded and he was feeling more like himself. So much so, he decided to use Sams' laptop for a bit of self-love. Fingers hovering over the keyboard he chewed the inside of his mouth. He couldn't decide what he was in the mood for. Girl-on-girl? Threesome? Nah. He rubbed his fingers together as if to prepare them for what he was about to type.

“Jesus Christ, what am I doing?” It didn't stop him searching for cock boys and almost immediately upon entering the website he felt that little surge of carnal wants bolt through his body. He casually scrolled through video after video. It was annoying him that he was being so choosy about it but deep down, deep deep down, he knew exactly what he was in the mood for. Something young, something preppy, something golden, something brunette, something with cheek dimples, something with an ass you could stand a beer bottle on. Oh man. He lowered his standards and settled upon a video of some slender twink on his knees waiting to be split in half by an older guy with what Dean thought was the thickest dick he had ever seen.

He set the laptop the down between his now open, relaxed legs. He had gotten himself into one of those impossibly comfortable positions where if you move, you can never get back that level of comfort. He needed lube so improvised and spat into the palm of his hand and then thought how awesome it would be if he could suck himself off. Sexual contortion aside, he set about the literal task in hand. He hit play and skipped the first few minutes just to get to the actual fucking. His cock was wet with spit, not ideal but he wasn't looking for anything fancy, just a straight up wank and be done with it.

He leaned back and watched, dick in hand, stroking lazily but not really feeling it. He felt frustrated and wondered if perhaps watching two nubile blondes eating one another out might have been a more productive idea. He slammed the laptop shut and leaned back further, keen to just use his imagination and get himself off nice and quick and get on with his day.

“C'mon, Dean. Sweep that mind for filth.” He closed his eyes, tipped his head back and let out a whimper. “Fuck, man.” 

He laid his spare arm over his eyes as his dick throbbed in his fist. Sam was there, kneeling between Deans' legs. He was begging Dean for sex. Sam was flirting with him something awful. He sucked on his fingers and bounced on the bed like a naughty kid not getting his own way.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. You know you want to. You've always wanted to. You're dirty, thinking about your baby brother that way. And then making him call you Daddy, all the while you screw his tight hole.”

Dean was wanking hard now. Groaning with displeasure at the thoughts in his mind and how they were having a twisted effect. So fucking hard and punching out thick stringy pre-come like he was manufacturing it for the rest of the male population. Sam was still there, on his back now, finger fucking his hole and then offering his fingers to his brother.

“Go on, taste it. It'll get you off real quick, big brother.” 

He had gone past 'porn' guilt now and was convinced in his erotically hijacked mind that when Sam got back from Stanford he would fuck him into the middle of next week and spunk over his face.

“Fuck, Sammy. You, you're a dirty little bitch. Fuck, tell Daddy, Sammy. Tell...tell...Sam. Sammy!” And that just about did it. He came so hard he made himself jump. It was that kind of orgasm that makes you want to vomit. He felt his jizz run over his fist, he was still turned on, so he swapped hands and milked his softened dick while he licked the creamy load from his fingers. “Oh God.” It was a mixture 'Oh my God, I'm so fucking turned on' and 'Oh my God, I'm a criminal deviant.'

“Having fun?”

Dean paused for a moment, tongue curled over his bottom lip. It was fine, he was hearing things. No, he wasn't. He opened one eye and then slowly retracted his spunk laced tongue into his mouth. He tried his best 'I ain't doing nothing' face, but Sam had seen and heard pretty much everything that had been going on in Deans' motel bed. 

“How long you been standing there? Why didn't you say anything?” Dean barked.

“Because I couldn't, Dean. I was too busy finally realizing you feel the same way too.”

Dean hesitated. Unsure.

“Really?”

“No. Not really. It's not one of those sick fan fiction stories, Dean. God, you're a pervert.”

Dean wiped his still jizzed on hand on the bed sheets.

“I am not. You telling me, you ain't ever gone a little nuts and looked at some crazy porn, just to get you off?”

Sam marched over to the bed upon seeing his now sticky laptop.

“No, I don't actually. And oh my God, Dean. You got your sperm on my laptop!”

“Well, that pretty much explains why I get laid more than you.”

Dean stood up, dick swinging and still leaking come. He wasn't embarrassed, more annoyed that Sam was being all Holier Than Thou and preachy.

“I don't get laid as much, Dean. Because I have standards.”

“Yeah well, I ain't ashamed to admit that I kinda hit rock bottom with my standards this afternoon.”

Sam gasped.

“That was low, Dean.”

“Seriously, call me Dean one more time and I swear to God. I'm the only other person in the Goddamn room, you don't have to say my name every time you speak to me!”

Sam huffed and handed his laptop to his brother, face grimacing and turning away slightly.

“Clean it.”

“Fine.” Dean snatched it away from him. “Why you back so early anyway?”

“We have a case. So I thought I'd come and get you. But it seems you're busy enough with whatever you were doing.”

“It's called masturbating, you old woman. Never mind what got me off. We'll forget it. Okay?”

“Fine. I suppose I can let it go.”

Dean used his bed sheet to clean Sams' laptop, he knew Sam would not be fine with it, but he was beyond caring and keen to find out about the case.

Sam politely took his laptop from his brother who was still naked. He sat at the table in the corner of the room and beckoned Dean over.

"Check this out, Dean."

Dean raised his eyebrows and smiled to himself then joined Sam at the table wincing as his junk hit the cold plastic seat of the chair.

"You're not getting dressed then?"

"Nah, you just watched me get off over your laptop screaming your name, I think my naked body is the least of our concerns."

"Sure. Anyway, check this."

Dean chuckled, helping himself to a beer from the six-pack on the table. Warm yes, but he suddenly felt the need to play another little game with himself. As Sam chatted away in the background Dean created The Sam Winchester Drinking Game in his head but still remembering to nod and smile in the right places while Sam talked (and talked) One chug for 'Dean', two chugs for 'Check this' (and variations) and three chugs for a sigh.  
By the time Sam had finished with details about a possible vampire nest in the next state, Dean had drunk two bottles of beer and was about to open his third. 

"Dean, you need to slow down."

Dean looked at his brother, took one chug and smiled weakly at him. Then thought he should have added four chugs for 'henpecking'.

"Yeah, but there is more than enough time to drink two beers when someone has been talking for twenty thousand years."

"So, when shall we leave?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother's sarcasm.  
"I've been drinking."

"I'll drive."

"We'll go in the morning. I ain't leaving now, it's a long drive and I missed out on my post-coital nap."

"It wasn't sex, Dean."

"An orgasm, is an orgasm is an orgasm Sammy." He was slurring his words and took another chug. "Wanna get wasted?" 

Sam shook his head, screwing up that impossibly perfect nose.

“Go on, we ain't done anything like that for a long time. Please?”

"Will you promise not to hit on me?"

"No." Dean was serious, not a single muscle in his face moved to denote a hidden laugh. 

Sam still thought he was kidding, so laughed, albeit nervously and sipped on his beer.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I'm laughing at your joke."

"What joke?" Dean arched one eyebrow slowly. He knew things had gotten weird. Again. But he found out something about himself today. And felt that it needed attention, so that meant testing the water. Truth is, it had been the first time he had searched for cock boys on the internet. He knew he wasn't gay nor was he bisexual. But it wasn't the first time he had thought about Sam when he jerked off, it perhaps was about the one-hundredth time which probably explained why he was being so nonchalant about Sam walking in on him yelling his name in ecstasy.  
He thought he might as well tell him. At least until the beers had gone and they had both moved onto the hard stuff. Sam was a difficult nut to crack. He wasn't a Eunuch, but he wasn't or didn't seem to have any sexual perversions. When Dean thought about it, he realized that he hadn't even got anywhere near stumbling in on Sam masturbating or even watching porn. 

Was he really going to hit on his brother? Especially after Sam had explicitly stated that he, Dean, was a pervert. He had always thought Sam to be kind of cute. And also, quite virginal. Dean always shuddered to himself on the countless occasions he had thought that about his little brother. It generally started off innocently. Thinking about how shiny his hair was. His cute ass which stuck out like it was some kind of invitation to whoever went near it. The dimples he got when he grinned, Dean just wanted to finger them with his tongue. And then his long neck, the way he curled his hair behind his ears. The killer upside down smile. And that innocent aura around him, it slayed Dean.

Dean watched Sam process and then nudged him playfully.

"Hey, I'm kidding." He lied. 

One six pack of beers finished and Dean cracked open a bottle of whiskey. Not expensive but nothing like the old rot gut Bobby drinks. Sam wasn't a huge whiskey drinker, but he'd had three beers and because of that the word 'no' had gone awol from his vocabulary.  
They moved the fun from the table and chairs to Deans bed. Sheets still crumpled from his earlier indiscretion. Dean half crawled onto the bed, glass and liquor in one hand while Sam clumsily stripped down to his boxer briefs, tripped and then fell on the bed. This caused an episode of hysterical laughter which was interrupted by their neighbors banging on the wall.

Sam pressed a finger against his lips.

"Shush."

Dean was incredibly loud and the banging neighbors began to yell. Sam leaned over and placed his hand over his brother's mouth. Dean licked it. Sams' eyes widen as he peeled his hand away slowly, just as Dean bit at the air between his mouth and Sams' hand. Nothing happened, but the laughter stopped.

"Get up you freak of nature!" Dean growled.

Dean sat up against the bedhead and the huge pile of pillows that he had been so comfortable against earlier, making a point to make room for his brother. He patted the empty space and tried to act as normal as possible. He was swaying due to the fact that he hadn't eaten all day and the alcohol had gone straight to his head.

"Dean! I left my glass on the table." Sam huffed and slurred. "Lemme share yours."

"'kay." Dean poured, and didn't stop almost filling the glass to the brim. He carefully moved the glass towards Sams' mouth. "Sip it." Sam sipped, but most of it dribbled down his chest.  
Dean barely noticed and inexplicably downed what was the equivalent of about four fingers. 

“I help you, Sammy.” Dean dipped his middle finger into the whiskey and offered it to Sam. He shook his head. "Go on." Dean teased Sams mouth with the tip of his finger. "Try it." 

Sam was hesitant but Dean was being quite persuasive and he could feel his bare skin against his own which were causing little electric sparks. He hadn't gotten laid in a long time and thought that perhaps that was the reason. He could feel Deans gaze boring into him and sheepishly turned to look at him, he opened his mouth and drew Deans finger into his mouth with his lips. He sucked on it gently, most of the whiskey had dripped away leaving a slightly salty taste in its place. Dean pulled his finger out, dipped it in the glass along with his forefinger, Sam leaned forward this time and took the fingers into his mouth quickly. Dean felt a tongue wrap around them. 

"Fuck, Sammy." Deans' pulse had begun to race and blood was rushing to his dick at a quickening pace. Sam tipped his head back with a jerk allowing his brothers whiskey infused fingers to slide from his mouth. He took the bottle from Dean and took a long slow chug from it. He swallowed most of it but retained a little in his mouth. "Sammy, what are you -" Dean jumped as his face was met with a spray of warm whiskey and a spit mixer. "Did you just spit at me?" Sam was laughing and leaning toward his brother. 

Dean instinctively moved back, swigged from the bottle then totally let Sam at him, bottle tipping and sloshing over Deans dick. Sam lunged and smirked as Dean spat his own mouthful of liquor over his brother. Sam pinned him down, a leg between his thighs grazing against his threatening erection.

"Do you remember that time?" 

"Time? Expand?" Dean was crushed under Sams weight unsure whether he was being taught a lesson or about to have the night of his life. 

"When I was 15." Sam laid his entire weight onto Deans body and slid his strong arms underneath him. 

"Fuck Sammy, the hell you playing at? 15. That was a - " And then the penny dropped. "Shit. Yeah. Yeah, I do." 

1998 - SPRING

It had been unusually hot for Springtime. This threatened an even hotter Summer with endless days listening to rattling old AC units and wallowing in heat activated boy stench in rancid old motel rooms.  
But it was still only spring and brought with it gentle breezes and April showers, come what may.  
The boys had been left for a week, maybe more, at a cabin which belonged to an old, long since departed hunter friend of their fathers. It was pretty basic and dusty and was definitely once owned by an old guy, but it was nestled next to a huge deep lake and woodland that went on for miles and miles. 

Not many teenagers would appreciate the isolation, but then not many teenagers were like Sam Winchester. With John gone again for God knows how long and Dean hitting up some bar out of town Sam was left to his own devices. He technically shouldn't have been on his own, but he persuaded Dean to go as he was more than capable of looking after himself.

It was a beautiful Spring afternoon. Like summer but with that dewy edge in the air making everything look fresh and new. The lake was literally a few steps from the cabin porch and after sitting reading for an hour so Sam decided upon a swim. Alone, so he stripped off and waded into the water. It was clear and cool and he thought it was one of the most amazing things he had ever done. He felt like he was the only person in the world. He swam out as far as he could manage and let himself bob, turning slowly taking in the lush green around him. The sun warmed his wet hair, the silence and beauty overwhelmed him which caused him to let out an involuntarily 'whoop' and echoing laughter. He dipped back under the water and cut through it like a knife back to dry land.

Dean was cursing. John had taken the Impala and left him with some shitty old pickup. It crunched and grunted and didn't work anywhere near as well as the Impala did when it came to picking up girls. He pulled up alongside the cabin, sputtering to a halt.

"Goddamn, piece of shit!" The pickup almost groaned as he switched the engine off. Dean was in a shitty mood. He was hungover and aching from sleeping in the car because of the damn piece of crap pickup cock-blocking him. But he had pot, snacks and the great outdoors to sooth him. Just as he was about to exit the vehicle he saw him. Sams lithe legs cutting through the clear lake water completely naked. His normally unruly mop of brown hair was glossy, clinging to his head. He skin was peppered with droplets of water which sparkled in the low spring sun. 

Dean hadn't realized how tall Sam had gotten, how he had started to fill out. And man, that ass. He looked almost ethereal like he was glowing. Sam looked up, huge grin, waving like a maniac. Dean waved back the tiniest wave imaginable. He exited the pickup and walked over to his brother who was now wiping himself down with a towel. 

"Hey." 

"Hey, Sammy. Good swim?"

"Yeah. I love it here. 

Dean agreed it was a peaceful juxtaposition to their hunting lives and places and moments like these needed to be enjoyed. 

"Ain't you cold?" Dean's eyes were falling everywhere aside from his brothers taut body. Sam flicked the damp towel at Deans' legs with an evil little snap.

"I'm fine. Why are you being weird?"

Dean lifted one leg up to dodge the towel.

"Ain't being weird. But, dude you're butt naked. Put something on."

"You have seen me like this loads of times." Sam tied the towel around his waist. 

"Hey. Snacks!" He snatched the bag of junk food from his brother then ran into the cabin. Dean went after him, laughing and grabbing at the towel. His foot caught a loose floorboard, his hands reached out and shoved Sam onto the unforgiving, dusty wooden floor. He landed on him with a painful thud and Sams head bounced on the floor. There was silence as they assessed injuries, but neither of them moved a muscle. Dean bit his lip and without a single thought he kissed his brother hard. Sam pushed at his Deans' arms trying to stop him, but he kept kissing back. Kissing and pushing, over and over. Alarm bells went off inside Deans mind. He scrabbled around on the floor, boots gripping the boards trying desperately to get up and stop himself.

"You'd better shower. You're covered in cabin shit."

And that was it, nothing more happened. It was never discussed nor ever even thought about, until now. 

NOW

“Why did you kiss me that day?”

“I liked what I saw.” Drunken loose lips.

“Do you still?” Sams' hips moved ever so slightly against his brothers, dicks rutting.

“Yeah.” Dean bit his lip, he was drunk, but there was still a modicum of clarity about his person. Sam had changed his tune. Earlier he was just 'Sam', a bit preachy and a bit of a whiny little bitch. But now he was full-on flirting and Dean wondered for a moment whether it was some elaborate trap but then you can't fake boners and Sams' was rod-like.

“You know it's morally wrong don't you.” Sam was serious now, but still holding Dean in quite a firm clinch, his hips still ticking. “You know people go on talk shows about this kind of stuff and people point and laugh because they're perverts and sickos? They'd send you to the nuthouse to fix you for wanting to fuck your little brother.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sams' blatant blaming Dean for their current position. Sam continued.

“It's wrong and dirty, Dean. You're wrong and dirty. You're a fucking filthy deviant.”

“Yeah, well. I hate to break it you little brother, but everything you're saying is having the reverse effect.” Dean leaned in and bit on Sams' bottom lip, tugging it hard away from his face. Sam whined but managed a dirty smirk as Dean released it.

Sam reached over Deans' head and retrieved the spilled bottle of whiskey, there was a little remaining which they shared, most of it ran down Deans' neck and was then sucked up by Sam. Dean grabbed Sams' ass and bucked as his brother licked and sucked his sticky neck.

“I'm am so nailing you tonight, baby brother.”

Dean wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. In both threatening to fuck his cute little brother and the actual logistics of anal sex with a man. Sure he had fucked a few women up the ass but this was different. He thought back to the brief video of the twink and bear and remembered how he had skipped past some anal foreplay, so settled with that. He rolled Sam over onto his back and pulled himself up.

“Up you get. I'm gonna eat me some ass.” Sam just laughed like a maniac, so very wasted and vulnerable. Oh, Dean Winchester, you're a very bad man. Wasn't gonna stop him, though. He helped him up and propped his Bambi-like body on all fours and without an ounce of grace yanked his boxers off until they fell to his knees. Rimming was new but new was good. And his dick was leaving a long trail of pre-come over the bed sheets telling him that everything was good and normal but still so fucking obscene.  
He tore Sams' buttocks apart and buried his face between them, licking repeatedly over his hole with the flat of his tongue. Dean thought about how he had never tasted anything quite like Sams' asshole. It tasted 'wrong', it was ass after all, but that was the crux, it was good because it was wrong and going by Sams' moans, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

“Dean. God, you're so fucking bad.”

Dean laughed against Sams' ass, mainly due to the absurd situation. He pulled away and sat back on his feet. Sams' hole was open and wet and really something else.

“Jesus Christ!” Dean had to take a moment. He let go of Sams' ass and almost ran to the bathroom. Sam, still on all fours, watched his brother streak past him. The alcohol was adding fuel to the confusion of the entire evening. He got up, unsteady and bewildered and found Dean perched on the edge of the bathtub. Still pathetically hard and mouth wet with ass spit.

“What you doing?” Sam slurred. “I was enjoying that.”

“It's just got a little bit weird. And we're very drunk but for once I am actually putting an end to this madness. Hell, I ain't normally turning down sex but, Sammy. It's you, baby.” Dean paused, groaning loudly. “See, when the fuck did I start calling you baby for crying out loud?!”

Sam folded his arms, trying to hide his inebriated state.

“I always wondered why you couldn't keep a girlfriend,” Sam said quietly. “I always thought it was because you're a slut.”

“I am.” Dean let out a small chuckle. “Are you saying you want this too? I thought I was a pervert?”

“You are. But hey, I guess it runs in the family, right?” Neither of them was particularly happy about the conversation. Their initial drunken fondling had passed and now they were left with the harsh reality.

“I always wondered why you couldn't keep a girlfriend, either. I thought it was because you were a crap lay.”

“I'm not.” 

Dean looked up, Sam hadn't taken offense at what he had just said, but he wasn't amused either.

“Prove it.” Deans' voice shook as he spoke. He knew, kinda, that they were on the same page. He thought. He wasn't sure.

It had been a complete blur. Dean was slumped over the bathtub, dick drenched with come. Sam was sat leaning against the bathroom tiles, his own cock wet with ass and spunk. They were both panting hard and were utterly spent. 

“Where in the hell did you learn to screw like that?!”

Sam laughed, his legs tangled around his brothers, slowly traced a finger through a puddle of jizz on the bathroom floor.

“Well, when I go to bed. I kinda have trouble sleeping so I have to occupy my mind.” He paused deliberately.

“And?”

“And,” Sam smirked, his mouth forming that upside smile, hesitant lips ready to curl about his words. “Oh Dean, tonight was not the first that I have fucked you into the middle of next week. I have done it so many times in my head. In reality, baby, you wouldn't be able to walk. I have wrecked your ass in my dreams. Over and over until you were fucking crying your eyes out. I've made you come so hard, you've thrown up. I've tied you up, I've spanked you, I've bitten you and I've sucked your thick, fucking dick until it bled. That is where I learned to fuck my big brother. So, are you able to stand or would you like some help?”

Dean laughed, partly out of sheer terror and also shock because apparently his 'innocent baby brother' was a walking Viagra and had caused 'little Dean' to arise. Again.

“Wow.”

“Is that all? 'Wow'?”

“I mean, uh. It's always the quiet ones, huh?” 

“Would you like me to suck that for you?” Sam stood up and nudged Deans' brand new boner with his toes.

“Yeah?” Dean held a hand up, Sam took it and he was glad because just like the terrifyingly horny elongated one had just said, he wouldn't be able to walk. It was true, Deans' legs were like Jell-O and he literally lost his balance. He had been fucked until he couldn't walk by Sam Winchester. The moral compass of the Winchester family and salad lover. Sam held his brother around the waist and walked him back to bed. Deans' head started spinning no sooner as his head hit the pillows.

“Suck it in the morning. Be my alarm cock.” He chuckled at his own ridiculous joke. Sam laughed too and snuggled up next to him.

“You're really sexy, Dean.”

“Thank you for clarifying that compliment was for me.” 

“Shut up.”

“And, yeah I know.” He opened one eye and looked his brother. “You ain't bad either. Do you have a brother? Because I bet you get your good looks from him.”


End file.
